About two weeks ago, me, The Canadian One and The Canadian One’s British Friend (who I”ve know for two years longer than I’ve known The Canadian One mind you) went to a music gig. We were in the part of Seoul where women with buckets and single roses wander from bar to bar, scurrying through the establishment in an effort to convince men to buy their girls a flower. It’s such a ubiquitous sighting, it rarely registers with me but on this particular night it did. And here’s why:

I’m sitting with The Canadian One (TCO) standing next to me and The British Friend (TBF) standing next to him.

Flower Lady digs deep into her bucket, pulls out a small flower and hands it to TCO. He gives her the money and presents me with my flower. A very small flower. A tiny flower. I take the plastic off it and it explodes out. Leaves, colour, smell. I loved it. And such is the story of how The Canadian One’s British Friend bought me a flower.